Let me sing you a song
As I cantor along,
Heigh, hi ho ;
Down the roads which entwine
Through the coolabahs fine.
Heigh, hi ho.
I will singas I ride.
Of the people who dwell
Far away from the tide
Which the fact'ry hands swell
As they shuffle and slide
Past the bundy clock's bell.
Heigh, hi, ho.
I will sing of the rains
That give drink to the plains.
Heigh, hi, ho.
And I'll think as I croon
Of a Warrego moon,
Heigh, hi, ho.
I will voice, if I feel
Of the pastures and sheep--
Of the parents who kneel
For their children who weep ;
Or the dingoes that steal
While the station hands sleep.
Heigh, hi, ho.
While my gelding keeps time
With my cantering rhyme.
Heigh, hi, ho,
I will sing of the place
Where the kangaroos chase,
Heigh, hi, ho.
There, the plain turkeys rise
From the Mitchell grass tall,
With an air of surprise,
Should a preying hawk fall
Like a stone from the skies
On a singing lark small.
Heigh, hi, ho.
Where the brolgas parade
In their gay masquerade,
Heigh, hi, ho,
Is the land of the horse,
And of stockmen, of course,
Heigh, hi, ho.
It's a land where a friend
Will remain to the last ;
Where the toughest men bend
If the bibbing is fast.
And a coward will end
Like a kite in a blast.
Heigh, hi, ho.
Yes, I'll sing of the land
Where they earmark and brand,
Heigh, hi, ho,
And the musterers ride
Through the scrub paddocks wide.
Heigh, hi, ho.
I will sing of the streams
Where the cattle herds graze.
And a sunlight that beams
During most of the days--
it's a sweet land of dreams
Where my mem'ry oft strays.
Heigh, ho, heigh.
-"Ballarat Jim."
Brisbane, 9/12/46.
Notes
From the Queensland Newspaper The Worker 16 Dec 1946 p. 4.
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